The leaves aren’t all that’s falling

63°
Fall afternoon, sun angles
Lower in the sky

Two pleased-as-punch mutts
Pull their young owner along
Pony tail, ball cap

Cracked country asphalt
Rebar-staked against the sprawl
Grass browned for winter

Hydrant amid trees
Odd artifact in nature
No truck comes calling

Litter of “Lite” cans
Aluminum smashed flatter
Than the brew they held

Lone hubcap, rusting
Little airplane gin bottle
Party in the ditch

An hour’s brisk walking
Indian summer’s last gasp?
43°

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Haiku saving time

Don’t forget to switch your clocks tonight. And these are followed on the blog by re-posts from June 21st, the day with the most daylight, and with a nighttime suite I wrote back in February about things that happen, however cliched, in the wee small hours.

Spring forward, fall back
Big deal! I do that most days
Turning off alarm

1895
Bright idea first came to
George Vernon Hudson

Entmologist,
Astronomer bugged by waste
Of all that daylight

Lived in New Zealand
So there was one huge problem:
Sheep didn’t get it

William Willett golfed,
Had same thought, 1905,
To extend tee times

Germans made the switch
1916 to save coal
During World War I

Brits then the U.S.
Followed, pretty soon nations
All around tried it

Farmers don’t dig it
But sporting goods stores sure do
Maybe it’s a wash

I love the daylight
But the nighttime’s the right time
For some things, nudge, nudge

So, if I post this
1:15 a.m., will you
Get to read it twice?

Spring forward, fall back
We’re fooling Mother Nature!
No, fooling ourselves

The light that matters
It shines 24/7
In your heart, your eyes

Random haiku

Chill rain, warm salt sweat
Commingle in runner’s rite
At pulsing temple

Dry gusts, humid breath
Weather patterns roil and clash
Cloud around his head

First flake of fall snow
Crystalline beauty, perfect,
Catches day’s last light

First flake of fall snow
Beguiling Goddamned gangster
You know he’ll bring friends

B.o.A. woos me
Kills debit card fee — too late
I’m feeling withdrawn

Here I sit, forlorn
So sweet, so ready, just like
Halloween candy

Lover’s sighs, baby’s
Laughs, fulfilling work’s rhythm
Monotony thrills

Coffee’s gurgling drip,
Lunch counter’s din, dinner’s peace
Monotony thrills

Random haiku, let it be

Most glorious fall
(Complete with juicy apples)
Since Adam bit in

Full moon, windshield mist
Cross the line from crisp to chill
Autumn’s first shiver

Country Club Plaza
Folks suntanned, sinewy, blonde
KC’s fat free zone

Preacher: Paul, do you
Take Nancy to be your wife?
Sir Paul: Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!

Moments on the couch
Intimacy can shrink if
Overanalyzed

This must be a day
To tap into, for twice it
Goes to eleven

Igniting bonfires

I’ve been writing haiku — or at least 5-7-5 syllable verses — most days this year since late January. I’m starting this blog so more people can see them, beyond the folks I’ve been emailing them to. Is that a good thing? I guess we’ll find out.

Besides my near-daily posts of new haiku, I’ll be reposting batches of haiku from earlier this year, to create an online archive of sorts, heaven knows why.

OK, let’s get this show on the road. You get a quadruple batch starting with today’s offering.

Fall haiku, part 4:

Life’s calendar says
Fall but my spirit says rise,
Reprise spring, summer

My life like the year
Well more than half gone — I can’t
Fathom its ending

My heart still races,
Rages, yearns, aches — can’t absorb
The wisdom of age

Mellow’s not in me
Although my gray hair, lined skin
Foreclose outward youth

But inside, the spark
That makes me who I am leaps
To ignite bonfires

Fall haiku, part 3, from Sept. 27:

Summer’s fire lingers
In leaves blazing red and gold
Proud before their fall

The earth’s ripe bounty
Blesses labor, consecrates
The tabernacles

Bins burst, storing warmth
To fire bellies when winter
Cloaks all in its cold

Late bloomers savor
Their Indian summer but
Know how this plays out

The year, like all years,
Must fall, the victim of time
Inexorable

Fall haiku, part 2, from Sept. 26:

Dudes with doctorates
Say “Autumnal equinox”
I just say “Fall’s here!”

I mean, what “autumns”?
Temperatures fall, the leaves fall
Apples fall from trees

True, pumpkins don’t fall
But neither do they “autumn”
Nothing really does

What’s that? You “autumn”?
“On the islands”? I hope with
Your mom, and grammar

Orange you glad that fall
Dresses in such bright colors
Before winter’s white?

Football brings fall fun —
If concussions, shredded knees
Define “fun” for you

At least marching bands
Entertain at games without
Lots of broken bones

The best sport wraps up
Soon with the true Fall Classic:
Come on, World Series

Then college hoops start
Enjoying them’s a slam dunk
Can’t wait for the Phog

So I just don’t get
Those who want fall over with
Though it’s just started

Halloween I’ll have
Costume right in season: Sears’
Christmas catalog

Fall haiku, part 1, from Sept. 25:

In fall, at harvest time, my thoughts always return to a little village in Transylvania. In September 1991, I was part of a group from All Souls Unitarian Universalist Church that visited our sister church in Galfalva, Romania. The fall of the Ceausescu regime opened the possibility of such sister church relationships, and ours was one of the first — and one of the first to result in a visit. It was quite a trip.

20 years ago
Transylvanian village
A rare pilgrimage

Back in time to roots
Of my faith, a faith rooted
In freedom, reason

On Nyarad River
Villagers opened their arms
Their love overwhelmed

1568
Unitarian faith formed
Before my country

Village church opened
1773
Before the U.S.

The Sunday service
Preacher in Dracula cape
Everyone spiffed up

Sermon praised the land
And the people who worked it
God’s gifts at harvest

We offered our gifts,
Hearts, wish for peace, unity
Across all the miles

Village most humble
People most hospitable
I’ll treasure always